


Tha-Thump, Tha-Thump

by a_kiss_inthe_rain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Apocalypse, Blood, Depression, Drug Use, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6490336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kiss_inthe_rain/pseuds/a_kiss_inthe_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Apocalypse, and the end of the world is being brought by the youngest Winchester, while the eldest kills himself trying to save it.<br/>Battle scenes, blood, and heavy triggers. Hints of PTSD, depression, alcoholism, and drug-use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tha-Thump, Tha-Thump

Dean dashed through the empty streets, rifle slung over his shoulder, a blade in his right hand. The blond pressed himself against one of the crumbling brick walls, poking his head around the corner to see a group of Croatoans munching on some poor soul; the soldier choked back the bile that threatened to rise when he heard the sickening tear of tendon being ripped from bone. He snuck along the wall, green eyes flicking back to the huddled crowd of monsters as he crept into the back of an abandoned general store.  
The eldest Winchester had volunteered to go on a supply-run to scavenge any remaining goods, not caring if he died. The tired man began to collect as many canned goods as he could into his dufflebag, along with rice and beans. He groaned, sick of the combination of bland foods. The once-vibrant man missed burgers, he missed the life where he hunted ghosts and wendigos, he missed hitting up shitty bars, but mostly he missed his brother.  
Finally, the leader of Camp Chitaqua finished gathering the last of the supplies and left the empty building. He slunk through the alleyways of Kansas City in silence, almost slamming himself into a wall when a pack of Croatoans clambered past. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and pushed off of the stone wall; the tip of his boot collided with a long-empty beer bottle, sending the glass clattering across the cement.  
The monsters turned back to him, foggy gray eyes vehement hatred shining through the glassy surface. Spittle and blood dripped from their chins, onto the ground in puddles. The one closest, a female that would have once been beautiful and caring, snarled before screeching at an inhuman volume; she leapt forward, sprinting towards Dean as he ran toward the chainlink fence that kept the monsters inside the city.  
The pack of crazed, once-human monsters chased the hunter as an impossible speed, screams and the pounding of feet filling Dean's ears as he ran (quite literally) for his life. More of the Croatoans were appearing from seemingly nowhere, leaving their dens in favor of chasing prey. A little girl snarled as she leapt our of a dumpster, arms wrapping around Dean's thigh as she prepared to bite down onto the hard muscle there; her animal-like, stony eyes locked onto Dean's candy apple ones as her mouth neared his denim-clad leg.  
The blond hunter stabbed her in the eye and kicked her away, fear clawing its way up his chest as the crowd closed in on him. Dean looked and saw that the nearest one was only ten feet away, and ran faster than he had in his life, heart hammering and lungs burning as the fence came into vision. A deep yell escaped his throat as his boot slid out from under him in a puddle of muddy water, and he fell flat to the ground. The skin on his knees tore and he bled freely, shards of gravel embedding into his hands; Dean's head collided on the ground with a loud thud, a long cut forming on his forehead.  
A giant, burly Latino man jumped onto the Winchester, fingers digging into the back of his neck. A low growl came from the man's throat as his drool drenched Dean's blond hair; his lips were mere inches from the struggling hunter's jugular.  
More Croatoans were crowding in, clawing and gnashing their teeth. Their eyes roamed, never landing on one place for long, loathing and anger boiling in those steel eyes. Spittle and blood coated Dean as he screamed, genuine fear causing the soldier-like man to urinate himself.  
Before, Dean hadn't cared if he died, his depression had numbed him to the point of an almost comatose life. Hell, Dean had even planned on dying on this trip, that's why he had gone alone. Now, he regretted doing that, he regretted even thinking of telling the Camp he would do this alone. Tears flowed down his cheeks as teeth grazed any uncovered flesh, others trying to gnaw through the denim and flannel he wore. Another scream welled up in his throat as gunshots echoed around him, bodies of the Croatoans falling to the wet ground. His green eyes managed to see a vehicle full of Camp members, Cas standing at the front with a shotgun.  
One of the crazed monsters ripped through the flesh on his hand with a fang, before half of their head was blown away. Shards of skull, along with blood and pieces of brain splattered on Dean's face.  
Cas began to crawl under the chainlink fence, running to Dean with a look of concern in his damaged blue eyes. His sweaty, dirty black hair and scruffy beard blew lightly while he hurried to Dean. His rough, calloused hands gripped Dean's face, blue eyes locking with green. "Dean, we're here. We're going to take you back to Chitaqua, and get you medical attention," he assured the hunter in his gruff voice.  
Dean chuckled, head lolling to the side as he tried to stand on his own. A pang of sadness pulsed through the blond as he saw the cloudiness in those cobalt orbs; Cas was high, on what, Dean couldn't tell. He was used to drinking with Cas, they had to keep the disaster that was the world away somehow, but it killed him to see Cas high. "C-Cas," Dean sighed out, vision beginning to black out around the edges.  
"It's okay, Dean, come on," Cas grunted out as he tried to lift Dean on his own. He was no longer an angel, but even he could tell that his lover had a few broken ribs, and was bleeding horribly. He saw that one of Dean's legs had a shattered kneecap, the bone was showing in some areas. "Oh, no, Dean," he mumbled as he dragged him to the fence.  
Dean blacked out, head flopping down on his chest. His eyes slipped closed, as the broken hunter drifted into a painful unconsciousness.


End file.
